Quiet

It will never be quiet again. The kitchen. Dripping water. Tapping sounds. From outside, inside, outside, inside… I might sleep someday. On the floor, The floor toils and trembles. The walls were repainted since then. Then there were crackling sounds from within. I can sit still in a chair all day. Until the chair tumbles away. Drip. Drip. Drip. Tap. Tap. Tap. Lying on the floor- not carpeted. It had been three days. I slept, but don’t remember. The picture on the wall shifted and contorted. In my dreams, my dreams… It was never quiet again.